A word of caution
by hpkiwi
Summary: The evening before Harry's hearing, he and Ginny bump into each other on the stairs. A little chat might just be soothing for Harry's nerves. Ginny meanwhile concludes she has to give him some advice for this year that could be prescient. Just a hint of H/G romantic undertones, as well as a hint of Lupin/Tonks.


_A/N: This one sprung from conception to fruition in about six hours. It's set the evening before Harry's disciplinary hearing on August 12, 1995. Featuring Harry and Ginny. Enjoy!_

 **A word of caution**

Harry made his way up to his shared bedroom with Ron, pleading with his mind to not conjure up various negative scenarios for his disciplinary hearing the very next morning. It was no good, he'd started to come to morosely conclude, as the image of a stern-faced Ministry official snapping his wand in front of a slightly-smirking Cornelius Fudge swam in his mind yet again. If only Dumbledore had actually bothered to meet him the previous day….instead of simply sweeping into Number Twelve and leaving. Who did the Headmaster think he, Harry, was? A troublesome, naïve schoolboy? A leper? It certainly felt like that, especially when all the others had headed off for bed, save for Harry, who alone was facing the hand of justice the next morning.

He was so focused on his own poisonous thoughts that he paid no attention to the muffled voices of Tonks and at least one other Order member ensconced in another room and clearly deep in conversation.

A creak came from further up the stairs. Harry jumped slightly, all uncharitable thoughts about Dumbledore gone. His fingers clenched over his wand pocket as he neared the first landing. A slight, red haired figure in a dressing gown was quietly shutting the door to her bedroom.

"Ginny?" he enquired with curiosity. "What are you doing up right now?"

"Shhh!" Ginny quietly commanded, raising a finger to her lips. "Mum already suspects that I know far too much about what goes on here, and in a way, I guess she's right." Harry noted the flesh-coloured attachment she was carrying, connected to a long, sinuous thread of string.

"I guess now you've spotted the Extendable Ears, you've sort of answered your own question haven't you?" she teased gently. "Harry, you might be The Boy Who Lived, but you definitely weren't sorted into Gryffindor for your acumen."

Harry sighed, waving a tied hand. "You haven't told me what you're listening out for."

"None of your doxy eggs," she shot back, a slight conspiratorial grin crossing her features. "Okay, fine, I've never been an early sleeper. What Mum thinks she knows about me and my sleeping habits is one big lie. And ever since we've moved here, I've been doing all sorts in the evenings. Pelting Dungbombs at Kreacher-" (Here Harry, his foul mood easing up somewhat, gave her a thumbs up.) "Eavesdropping in on Order meetings, letting Crookshanks have a few kitchen snacks, saying hello to Buckbeak and the like."

"And what have you found out?"

"Nothing much, just a bunch of stuff about guarding a 'weapon' of sorts. No different really to what Hermione told me the other night. Order meetings with Mad-Eye are the worst to listen into. He's probably convinced the Fidelius Charm on this place is going to crack any day now. Quite how that can happen when Dumbledore's the Secret Keeper, I don't know. How in the name of Merlin's saggy y-fronts can that happen?"

At the first mention of Dumbledore's name, Harry's attention dropped as he felt a seething pit of anger in his stomach - almost like _an angry snake_ \- at the mention of Dumbledore. As he did so, his scar began to prickle slightly. He tried to pull himself back to the present conversation, but slightly too late.

"Harry?" Ginny's brown eyes were locked on his. Her face wore an expression of curiosity, and perhaps, if he was reading her right, a little fear.

"Sorry," he muttered, giving her a weak, apologetic smile. "Scar." He sought to clear the air of the chill that had descended upon the oil lamp-lit landing they were standing on. "You're right though about Dumbledore."

Ginny drew a breath.

"And I'm nearly certain Lupin knows that a few Extendable Ears have survived Mum's purge, so he's notoriously loose-lipped even in secure meetings." Harry chuckled.

"With you and your enterprising brothers, I guess all security measures on meetings here are totally ineffective, right? And even then, I guess you've got Hermione to tell you stuff when your mum bars you from meetings." Ginny scowled and folded her arms.

"It's bloody bollocks, that's what Harry. She still treats me like I'm eleven. We're all fighting _him_ , and yet, they all seem to have collectively forgotten that I actually came face to face with Tom, at far too young an age."

At that, Harry impulsively placed a comforting hand on Ginny's shoulder briefly. He was slightly surprised that she didn't shrug it off, blush and then go running from the room. Clearly, circumstances had changed.

"I know Gin," he muttered. "Join the club. Remember I spent the whole summer without a scrap of news on Voldemort, and had only those stupid, useless letters from Ron, Hermione and Sirius. I know they were miffed at Dumbledore's instructions. What in the name of Merlin was he playing at anyway?" He glanced at his watch. Far too late an hour.

"Anyway…" he yawned. "Goodnight Gin. And happy birthday. I didn't get the chance to say it earlier today." He brushed past her, but was interrupted by a cough from Ginny, who looked unusually grave. Much too grave for her now-fourteen years.

"Just two more things, Harry," she whispered. "Keep your friends close this year. And Sirius." She looked down at the carpet, swallowed, then tentatively looked back at him. "That was my mistake. In First Year. I pushed everyone away, and it made it ten times as easy for Tom."

"And the second?"

"Look out for yourself."

"I will, tomorrow," Harry gave a nervous smile. "Truth will out and all that. Muggle expression," he hastily added as he noticed her look of curiosity.

"Not that." She waved a dismissive arm and gave him a reassuring smile. "You'll get off fine Harry, I'm sure of it." Her expression changed to a more somber one. "I mean in general. _Look out for yourself._ Just a little word of caution this year _._ " At that, she waved at him, then traipsed down towards the kitchen, unwinding the Extendable Ear. Harry stood alone on the landing for a minute or so, attempting to digest the meaning of her words before he shook his head and headed for bed. Funny, he reflected, how such a brief chat improved his morale. Even his prickling scar distracted him less.

Downstairs, Ginny was still reflecting on her chat with Harry. He couldn't have possibly known that the reason for her slightly startled reaction beforehand was that she'd sworn she saw something stir behind his eyes, something that irresistibly reminded her of her darkest moments of First Year, moments that were now usually only acknowledged in the very occasional nightmares she still had. It was for that reason she'd felt compelled to advise….no… _warn_ him.

Because if Tom was ever going to strike at Harry psychologically, he would always do it when Harry was at his most vulnerable.

Alone.

For that reason, it was hard to gain any pleasure from listening in, for the fifteenth time, to the utterly oblivious and infuriating Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks and their decidedly awkward conversations. Naturally, the boys were ignorant of the whole thing. Especially Harry.

And for the same reason, she hadn't even noticed it was the first time she'd ever had a proper one on one conversation with Harry Potter, and that her cheeks throughout the whole thing had threatened to break out into a fiery blush.

 _You have a boyfriend, dearie_ , a sing-song voice in her mind mocked her.

Okay, she _almost_ hadn't noticed.

"Bugger it all," she sighed, rolling up the Extendable Ear and heading for bed.


End file.
